


Seven Seas

by attemptedauthor



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Gen, Implied/Referenced Violence, just general criminal activity because of piracy, murder mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attemptedauthor/pseuds/attemptedauthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack never intended to become a pirate. Jack never intended a lot of things, but they tended to happen anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stowaway

**Author's Note:**

> Currently rated T because even if it's not now it probably will be, because God knows I can't keep swearing out of my fics and based on the topic there's gonna be at least lots of implied violence if not explicit violence in later chapters. Also It's currently labeled "gen" but I can't promise zero relationships to you. 
> 
> Basically tags and warnings subject to change.

Jack had been below deck in the brig for two days when the attack happened. It didn’t seem like much at first— there was one small porthole in his cell, and it was on the wrong side of the boat to see anything, but they did anchor, and from the sound of it, there was another boat. 

There was talking on the deck for about ten minutes, which Jack couldn’t make out, and the captain’s quarters door opened and shut again. He stopped paying attention around then, choosing instead to pick at his sleeves and wonder again why he thought he could stow away without getting caught. He reflected, again, that he was probably going to end up in jail when they landed, and also with the amount they were feeding him he was liable to become very sick. 

Something disrupted his thoughts before he could finish the reflection (which ended in “This is probably better than being dead but not much”, usually), and that something was an absolute explosion of noise from above decks. Thumps on the deck and people yelling— for the first time in two days, Jack stood up and ran to the bars as crew members ran past him, although the captain hadn’t called for all hands on deck yet. Jack yelled to ask what was going on (his voice was hoarser than he’d remembered, but he’d spoken probably a total of twenty words since they left shore, so that wasn’t startling), but no one responded

Sunlight streamed down while the door was open, and then shut quickly. 

Jack didn’t know exactly how much time passed before it went silent; or at least, seemed to go back to normal. He would guess around ten to twenty minutes, if he had to, but anything more accurate was impossible to say. 

The door opened again, and this time, he caught what was going on above deck, although he couldn’t recognize any of the voices. 

“Racetrack, take Sniper with you— if there’s crew down there, you’re gonna need the extra hands.”

“Yessir.”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Sure thing, idiot.”

There was a groan, and a few scattered laughs. “Get a move on,” said the first voice, “Or I’ll make you go off the side of the boat as well.”

“Sure you will,” replied Racetrack, and then two pairs of footsteps came clomping down the stairs. 

It didn’t take genius to put two and two together, which was good, because currently Jack was a half starved stowaway-turned-prisoner on a ship far away from any land. And, if he had his facts right, they’d probably become victims of a pirate attack, which probably wasn't any better, seeing as the general rule of pirates was "ruthless killers who don't take prisoners, avoid at all costs and blow out of the water on sight".

Jack made a quick choice that it was probably better to alert them of his presence here, loudly and clearly, and before they got close enough to accidentally kill him if he surprised them. He back away from the cell door, yelling, “Hello?” and then hacking a little— God, he needed a drink of water. He'd only gotten one yesterday, and that was in the morning. 

The footsteps stopped, and then a voice (probably Sniper, because it was a new one), said back, “Hello?”

A loud stage whisper from Racetrack, “Why are you saying hello back it’s probably a crew member—”

Sniper snapped back, in an equally loud whisper, “If he was part of the crew do you think he’d be yelling to us? We weren’t exactly quiet during the attack—”

“I know—”

“I can hear everything you’re saying,” interrupted Jack. There was silence for a second, and then Sniper spoke up.

“So are you a crew member?” Racetrack sighed loudly, and sounded like he was going to say something to that, but Jack answered first. 

“Do I _sound_ like a crew member?” Jack coughed a couple times, and resisted the urge to ask if either of them had water he could have a drink from. 

“What the fuck kind of question is that? How should we know if you sound like a crew member?” asked Race, and then followed it up with a mutter of “Smug asshole.”

“Well, you could walk twenty paces toward me and see that I’m behind bars and haven’t eaten properly for at least two months,” said Jack, biting his tongue before he insulted anybody, because that never worked well. There was another moment's pause, and then the footsteps started coming closer. They were around ten paces away when Jack could finally see them clearly— the shorter of the two had some sort of blade drawn, and the other had a hand on the hilt of a blade. Jack took a step toward the front of the cell. 

“Well, I’ll be,” muttered the taller (who was Sniper, if Jack voice recognition was right). Racetrack narrowed his eyes at him. 

“The hell are you doing in the brig? I didn’t think this boat was taking prisoners across, place isn’t big enough for it.”

“Stowaway,” said Jack, and Racetrack’s eye widened in understanding. He turned to Sniper, and the two had a quick non verbal exchange before Sniper turned to him. 

“Take two steps back and don’t move until we tell you too,” he said, and Jack obliged, covering his ears when Racetrack suddenly brought his weapon down on the lock, breaking it off. As soon as the door was open, Sniper went in and grabbed Jack’s arm, dagger suddenly out and against Jack’s neck. 

“Sorry for any inconvenience,” said Racetrack, sounding almost bored, “but we still can’t tell for sure if we can trust you. Better safe than sorry.” He stopped talking to Jack, and spoke to Sniper instead. “Let’s take him on deck, let Crutchie have a word, and then—”

“Come back down and finish looking around. I know, Race, you’re not the only one with brains,” said Sniper. Racetrack shrugged.

Jack wondered, briefly, if he should be scared. He came to the conclusion that probably, yes, but couldn’t really see how this wasn’t an improvement on his previous situation. Even if they killed him, at least he wasn’t rotting away below decks. 

The knife was slightly concerning though. And more than a little uncomfortable. And it made going up the stairs really nerve-wracking (Jack thought for a split second what would happen if he tripped forward, and then felt slightly ill). As soon as they got above decks, Jack’s free hand flew up to cover his eyes— two days with only a little bit of sunlight did not make the sudden burst of it easy to handle. The knife withdrew from his neck and one of them shoved him forward, he stumbled, but managed to to keep his balance, trying to squint in the sunlight. 

The first voice he heard— the one who didn’t want to be called sir— said, “Who’s this?” from somewhere next to him. Jack tried opening his eyes a little wider, but his eyes still weren’t adjusted to this level of sunlight. 

“Says he’s a stowaway— we found him in the brig,” said Racetrack. Shapes were starting to form in Jack’s vision, and he was at least able to make out people, although they all generally looked the same. He blinked a few times, and his eyes watered, but everything was gaining clarity. 

The next question was directed at him. “What’s your name, Mr. Stowaway?” Jack turned, actually able to make out the speaker now. He was probably a foot shorter than Jack, and leaned heavily on a crutch— he also recognized the hat he was wearing, which, until probably half an hour ago, had belonged to the captain of this ship. 

“Uh— Jack Kelly.”

The stranger stuck out his hand for a handshake. “Crutchie Morris. Pleased to meet you.” He smiled brightly, and Jack took the hand, shaking it in bewilderment. For all the stories he’d heard about ruthless pirates, looking around, he almost couldn’t believe they’d managed to take over the whole ship quite this quickly. He’d also expected to meet an end around five minutes ago, but that hadn’t happened either. 

They dropped hands, and Crutchie spoke up again. “Okay, so you’re faced with a bit of a choice here.”

“I am?” said Jack, and Crutchie waved a hand, and then pushed the hat off his forehead where it was falling in front of his eyes. 

“Yes. Just like everyone else on your ship. We either leave you here to rot, or you can attempt to join the crew.”

“You offered everyone else a spot in your crew?”

Crutchie actually looked guilty for a second before answering. “Well, not really. We gave them a choice of going over the side or being taken prisoner. But that’s sort of the same, isn’t it?”

Jack nodded. “Ah. Not really.”

“You’re probably right. So, Kelly— we can leave you here with no supplies on the boat in the middle of the ocean, or you can come with us.”

Jack paused for a second, and then asked, “Just so we’re clear, you’re asking me the same question as you asked everyone else, right?”

Crutchie blinked at him, and then laughed. “No! No— I think you’re missing it. Do you know who benefits if I take you prisoner? No one. You’re a stowaway, and forgive me for saying so, really not worth much to me as a prisoner. No, I’m asking if you want to come aboard or not. Of course, you’d have a babysitter for a little bit, because we can’t just trust you right away, but what a waste to throw someone who might be useful over the side of the boat.” Crutchie looked at him expectantly, and then, as if the situation couldn’t get weirder, giggled. “Drop your jaw any farther and it’ll hit the deck.”

Jack closed his mouth, and then said, “So you’re asking me to be a pirate?”

Crutchie smiled, and Jack stopped to consider. It’s not like he had a clean criminal record or anything, but piracy? That was an entirely different can of worms, and he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to go down that road.

But it was a lot better than the alternative. Better choice than the actual crew of this ship, it still wasn’t much of one. 

“Okay,” he said finally.

Crutchie’s face split into a grin. “Welcome aboard.” He turned suddenly, yelling to the crew. “Jo Jo, go down below decks and see what’s taking Race and Sniper so long! Romeo— where’s Romeo? Mush, track down Romeo for me— and Specs, it seems. Albert, you’re the babysitter this time.”

Albert groaned, but stepped forward and stood next to Jack. “Hate this job,” he muttered, but Crutchie ignored him and continued to shout. 

“Henry, finish taking stuff out of the kitchen, the more we have the better, take Buttons if you need help. The rest of you, grab something you think is important and move it toward the ship. We’re light, we should be able to take everything. Albert, show Jack to his quarters, will you?”

“C’mon,” muttered Albert, and grabbed Jack’s arm, pulling him back toward their ship, which was around the same size— it occurred to Jack that considering the weight, it was likely none of the crew members had been taken prisoner, whether they chose to or not. From what he’d seen, a lot of crew were concerned more with self-preservation than honor, and most of them would’ve chosen imprisonment over death. 

Albert dragged him below decks, and Jack half expected to be taken to the brig again, but instead he was shown to a room with a three hammocks strung across it. 

“Mine’s the one in the middle, and Romeo has the one to the far side, which means yours is the one closest to the wall. Sorry if we go over any waves in the night, you might hit the wall.” He didn’t sound very apologetic, but Jack didn’t mind. He was actually a little confused; it seemed off that they’d trust him enough to put him in a room with two other crew members. Albert caught his look and clarified for him. “Neither of us are heavy sleepers, and if for some reason you went after us during the night, the results to you would be a lot worse than what you’d manage before someone stopped you.”

“Oh,” said Jack. He paused for a second, then asked, “Can I have a glass of water?” Albert nodded, gesturing for him to follow. 

He was given a tour while they walked, and slowly, Albert became a little more friendly. Jack had two glasses of water and a couple of crackers while Albert told him dinner would be great because they had some more supplies now, and as they headed back, Albert took him the long way around. They ran across a couple other crew members during this time, most of them ferrying supplies across from the boat. A lot of them introduced themselves to Jack, and began to chat before someone else ran by and told them to get a move on. 

Jack was invited to dinner that night. He didn’t talk much at first, until Romeo asked him where he was from, which started with short answers, but suddenly everyone was sharing stories and places they’d been and Jack was laughing right along with them. 

Every crew member was around his age, some younger, and some probably a little older, but not much. And when Jo Jo punched Albert in the shoulder, Jack found himself wondering how this could possibly be the same group that had taken over a ship earlier. They didn’t seem very intimidating right now. Even Crutchie, captain of the ship and wearing a fancy hat stolen from a dead man didn’t seem anything but sunny and bright. He knew he should keep his guard up, that really, he didn’t yet have a good place on this ship and if something happened he would be the first over the side, but he couldn’t help it— it had been years since he felt this welcomed somewhere. 

They all stayed and chatted for hours after dinner was over, until Crutchie stood up. 

“Alright everyone, early morning tomorrow, so I suggest you get to bed. If you don’t, please try not to make that much noise, some of us would like to sleep.”

“Yessir,” replied Race, and Crutchie looked at him in exasperation. 

“Stop that,” he said, and Race grinned at him. 

“Make me, _sir._ ” Race stuck his tongue out, and Crutchie fought a smile. 

“I will. I’ll throw you overboard and we can have another barrel of rum instead of an insufferable crew member who doesn’t listen to his captain.” 

Racetrack rolled his eyes and got to his feet, the rest of the crew moving with him. They all helped put away the dishes and get all the garbage together, and as soon as they were done Albert instructed Jack to follow him back to their room, muttering something about babysitting and the rigging of the ship. He hit Romeo on the head on the way out, and later on, when Romeo came to join them in their room, he flipped Albert’s hammock over. 

The squabble lasted a couple of minutes as Jack watched, trying not to laugh, until finally Albert had Romeo in a headlock and they were both yelling at each other, at which point someone banged on the wall next to them and threatened to hang them by their feet from the crow’s nest if they didn’t shut up. 

“You suck,” muttered Romeo, although they were both grinning as they climbed into their own hammocks.

Jack found in about half an hour that Albert was right; he’d hit the wall twice since everyone else had drifted off. He didn’t mind too much; the day’s adrenaline was keeping him up anyway. 

This would count as the third, but definitely not the last day Jack spent over ten minutes reflecting on how he got where he was, although for the first time, the conclusion was different. 

This was definitely not what he intended, but he honestly couldn’t say he was sorry it happened.


	2. Morality of a Criminal

It was two weeks before Albert stopped “babysitting” him, as the crew called it. What this consisted of was Albert being around him most of the day, Albert making sure he didn’t have weapons, Albert and the rest of the crew teaching him the ropes, and Albert complaining about babysitting him. 

It was interesting, though. Jack found he had a knack for certain things, and the crew told him stories while they worked. 

Romeo told him enthusiastically about how he met Crutchie a few years ago and was offered a place on his ship almost immediately. 

“We went out for lunch, and he covered it. I told him how I’d been livin’ on the street and he offered me a place on the ship,” said Romeo, offering Jack a couple of tree nuts while around four of them hung around in the rigging. Jack had learned Albert’s story was much the same, although it was Jo Jo and not Crutchie who found him. Racetrack explained that he’d met Crutchie before the formation of the crew, and they’d done it together. 

Albert sighed when Race started talking, muttering something about how he’d heard this story a billion times, but Romeo looked eager as Race told a very obviously exaggerated story about how the he and Crutchie took on an entire crew to get a boat. 

Exaggerated or not, Jack didn’t really find it hard to believe. He was starting to think Crutchie was a miracle worker. No one on the ship had a single bad thing to say about him, and Jack could see why. He acted like another crew member instead of the captain, and he was friends with everyone instead of just having a professional relationship with them. He was out all the time, just chatting with everyone, and he seemed adamant on demolishing any hint of a hierarchy in the crew. 

They were just friends, and yet, no one had any problem recognizing when he meant business. 

Crutchie was also the nicest person he’d ever met, and small, and didn’t really seem concerned with getting anything done fast or getting anywhere fast. And yet in less than twenty minutes an entire crew was either dead or rendered unable to stop them from taking everything under his command. 

Crutchie participated in the stories himself, telling Jack about all the times one of the other crew members had done anything of interest and laughing with them. 

It didn’t take Jack long to figure out that everyone on this boat was there because they had nowhere else to go. Street rats and orphans, unable to work on the honest side of the law for some reason or another. They all talked as though finding the ship was the best that had ever happened to them, and Crutchie would beam at them even though he’d probably heard it a billion times.

Later, Crutchie had told him that it was really nice to have someone new to talk, for everyone.

“We been out here for months, and I think we’re runnin’ out of stories to tell.” He paused, and then grinned. “Except Race, he’s…”

“Full of bullshit?” Interjected Jack, and Crutchie covered his laughter with his hand. 

“Creative,” said Crutchie, “He’s creative.”

“That’s what I said.”

Crutchie crossed his arms and tried to look disapproving, but Jack nudged his shoulder lightly, and Crutchie laughed. “He’s a little full of bullshit. But he’d probably kick my ass if he heard that, so be a pal and don’t tell him.” 

“Ain’t you the captain?”

Crutchie snorted. “As if that’ll help.” Jack raised an eyebrow, and Crutchie shrugged. 

It wasn’t until the conversation was over that Jack noted that Crutchie was a lot more casual than any other authority figure he’d ever met. 

At around the two week mark, he was informed that Albert no longer had to keep an eye on him, and that he now had access to the weapons on the ship. Albert immediately disappeared, saying before he left that he liked Jack, but babysitting was a terrible job and he wanted to have some free time before Crutchie told him to do something. Jack waved him goodbye, and wandered around the ship himself, and ended up on the bow, staring out at the waves. There wasn’t really a spot to sit, but it was out of the way, and there was a place for him to lean against and stare at the sea.

There was nothing but the waves to look at, but even though he thought he’d be tired of them by now, there was something about not having to look at them through a porthole that improved it a lot, although he knew it would probably only take a couple more weeks for him to tire of the view.

“Found a quiet spot?” Jack jumped and turned around, and Crutchie looked apologetic. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I come up here too; it’s not private or anything, but it’s nice enough.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jack took a couple steps to the side to let Crutchie stand beside him, but instead, Crutchie sat down, leaning back against the bow so he was looking back at the ship. He put his crutch to the side, ignoring Jack’s questioning look. 

Crutchie didn’t say anything more, just looked back at the ship and sighed, and so Jack looked back at the waves, and neither of them spoke. 

With Crutchie nearby, Jack’s thoughts drifted back to the day he’d be brought aboard; and the question that lingered about Crutchie speech about a choice, and the utter lack of other crew members. 

He tried not to get irritated about it; everyone knew that’s how piracy worked. It was crimes and criminals at sea, and he shouldn’t have expected anything different. Besides, it wasn’t as though he’d cared about the crew on the ship. But it wasn’t right, and he had to ask.

“Crutchie?”

“Hm?”

“You didn’t really give the crew of the ship I was stowing away on a choice, did you?”

There was a pause, and Jack heard Crutchie move, but he kept looking out at the waves. “Not really,” he said finally. “I talked to the captain. Told him he could give us most of their supplies and we’d be on our way, and he told me to go to hell.” Crutchie sighed. “So I didn’t leave him.”

“So the crew is dead.” said Jack shortly.

“We didn’t kill most of them,” said Crutchie, “And we left some supplies for the crew members who hadn’t gotten in the—”

“But not enough for them to hit land, right? So you did, in fact, kill them.”

Crutchie got to his feet, and Jack turned to face him, surprised at the anger and guilt on his face. “It’s us or them. We need the supplies, we need the money for the supplies, and there is no one out there except us who will get it.”

“So it’s right to take out the captain and leave the crew to starve to death?” The resentment he’d been keeping at bay for a couple of weeks was seeping into his voice, along with every question and concern about what he’d gotten himself into. 

“No. No one’s saying it’s right— no one _wants _to kill people, Jack.”__

“So why am I on board and not left with the crew?” 

“You learn who to trust when you’re out here! Crews will stab you in the back— A stowaway? Why would you bother? Why would you try to take out a ship single handedly without a reward? We don’t just _do_ things that are illegal or immoral, Jack, I try not to just people die because I _can!”_

“Isn’t that what pirates do?” Jack took a step closer, but Crutchie, angry as he looked, didn’t rise to the challenge. He just stood for a second, and then took a step back, anger seeming to melt away, although Jack hadn’t calmed down at all. 

“No. People don’t just do things. Some of ‘em are in it for the money, but that’s not us. I’d kill any crew to keep everyone here safe. They’re my friends. Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?” Crutchie looked up at him now, and while seconds ago Jack could’ve started yelling, now he just sighed. 

Crutchie sat back down, and this time, Jack sat down with him. “They’re just kids. I’m just a kid. You haven’t been around very long, but you can see it. Hell, Romeo’s just barely nineteen. A teenager. They should be doing things in the world, but every single one was close to death or a lifetime in prison when I met ‘em.” He rubbed his eyes, sighing a little. “Look Jack, I know you think it’s wrong. I know some of ‘em think so too, and I know it is. But we gotta do it. We’re family, and we look out for each other, and I’d take on a hundred ships without batting an eye if it means everyone here gets fed and stays healthy.” Jack was silent for a second, and Crutchie added, “You don’t have to stay. Next time we go ashore I can let you off. It might not be for awhile, but I can.” 

Jack considered this for a second, and then shook his head slightly. “I was running away. There’s nothing for me. Not back where I came from, not anywhere.” 

Crutchie nudged him on the shoulder. “There is now.” 

Jack might not have thought that it was right. And he definitely didn’t agree with everything that went on, but Crutchie was right. He’d only been here two weeks, but even so, everyone here treated him like an equal, and like a friend. Like family, even. 

_I’d kill any crew to keep everyone here safe. They’re my friends. Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?_

He probably would, wouldn’t he? And everyone wanted to be here, and right now, they were happy, and much better off than what they’d said before. 

“Yeah,” said Jack, “I guess there is.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you notice any historical inaccuracies give me a shout because while I am doing research, sometimes I miss things. Also this one's shorter by a lot but I really just needed to finish an establisher so I could get a move on with the rest of the story.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a loser and really wanted a pirate au. There's a very good chance this will be a collection of stories taking place in this au rather than a story with a big arc, although it might happen. I don't have much planned out, though.


End file.
